When The World Was
by Kailor Aurelius
Summary: It's been weeks since Clarke saw land. Weeks since she saw her father. Weeks since the world ended. But they're safe, mostly all together, and they have a plan. A plan that could save them all. What that plan doesn't include is a voice on the radio asking for help.


**Kailor: And I'm back. The next few chapters of this have already been written and will be uploaded in the coming days. Reviews are always appreciated!**

The boat rocked, forcing Clarke to hang onto the couch edge so she wasn't thrown off. "Jesus, Mom. I thought you said Kane knew what he was doing."

From her spot behind the bar, Abbie sighed. "He said he did. Maybe I'll go talk to him." She stumbled across the room toward the stairs, fighting the tilting floor.

"Yeah, of course you will," Clarke muttered, watching her go. Once her mother's heels disappeared, she slid down on the couch, dropping her sketchbook on the coffee table. There was barely any chance of drawing on a boat anyways. She hated it. They'd been on this stupid boat for weeks now and she was tired of it. She was tired of rocking, tired of tilting, tired of walking the same forty feet of deck every day, scanning an empty horizon. She was so sick of feeling unsteady.

Clarke took a deep breath, sitting forward. She reached back, tugging the band out of her hair and letting it loose, the long blonde curls falling around her shoulders. The boat creaked around her and she twisted in her seat, looking out the glass doors in the back of the cabin. She could see Raven, dark hair tied back like always, her favorite red jacket tied around her waist as she stood at the railing, staring out over the water. Her tee shirt was in her hand, leaving her in her black bikini top. Clarke watched her for a moment, debating going out and talking to her or remaining in her (relatively) safe spot indoors.

The decision was made for her when Octavia appeared from the lower deck. She hopped up the last few steps, her hair loose and wildly waving, and reached one hand out to tap against Raven's side. Raven startled and spun, but relaxed back against the railing when she saw who it was.

"Hey, sunshine. Your voyeuristic tendencies getting to you?"

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned. The fridge door was open and she could just see a head of long, black hair and a pair of Ray-bans over it. "Hi, Carmilla."

Carmilla's head jerked back in acknowledgement, but she didn't look at Clarke. "We're running low on things to drink. Any plan for that, Princess?"

Clarke stood, rubbing her hands together. "I don't know. Mom is up talking to Kane right now." She lifted her chin a bit when Carmilla's head swung around to face her, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifting above the Ray-bans.

"They're awfully chummy these days," Carmilla drawled, shutting the fridge. "Didn't you say they just met?"

"I did," Clarke said. She glanced up the staircase. Carmilla was still looking at her, but she avoided her gaze, turning away. The door to below deck opened and a brunette emerged, rubbing her eyes with a hand. "Morning, Amberle."

Amberle blinked at her a few times, quickly getting her bearings. "Good morning, Clarke. Carmilla."

Carmilla grunted into the pantry.

"Where is everyone else?" Amberle glanced over Clarke's shoulder onto the deck.

"Raven and Octavia are outside. My mom and Kane are upstairs. Monty's downstairs, working. I don't know where the rest of the boys are." Clarke shrugged.

Amberle nodded, still looking outside. Clarke followed her gaze and saw Raven and Octavia, still talking as Raven pulled her shirt over her head and Octavia pointed up at the sky.

As one, Clarke and Amberle moved to the doors.

The wind on deck was stronger than Clarke had expected and she squinted against it, quickly putting her hair back in its ponytail. She glanced up and saw the sky had become a deep gray.

"Hey!" Raven's voice called over the whistling wind. Her hand wrapped around Clarke's elbow. "Back inside! Weather's turning!"

The four girls hurried back inside, closing the doors.

"Ugh," Octavia said, pushing her hair out of her face. "It was fine one second, kinda gray. Then it was just dark and the wind hit."

"Stormy seas," Raven sighed. "I was working on my tan."

The rest of the girls, all much whiter than Raven, glared at her. Carmilla walked past them and collapsed on the couch, booted feet up on the arm.

The downstairs door opened again and Monty's head popped out. The sides of his hair were sticking up, like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. "Clarke. You're up."

"I'm coming," she told him. She turned to Amberle. Before she could speak, though, Amberle nodded.

"I'll go make sure Kane can manage."

Clarke thanked her then followed Monty downstairs, holding the railing in the stairwell tight as the boat lurched. "How are you, Monty?"

"Tired," he sighed. "Getting a bit of motion sickness. I think I'll go sleep the storm away."

"Good luck," she said.

Monty ducked into his room, leaving her to walk the rest of the way down the hall alone. She stepped through the open door of the spare room and sat on the edge of the bed. The floor tilted and the few empty hangers in the closet swung, banging against the wall. Clarke slid to the end of the bed, slipping her legs under the little table that folded down from the wall. The CB radio was still, strapped to the table, the mouthpiece clipped to one of the straps. For a moment, she just stared at it, listening to the low buzzing static coming from the speaker. Then she reached out and turned up the volume. She unclipped the mouthpiece and pulled it up to her mouth, then started fiddling with the other knobs, switching stations and pausing every so often to say, "Come in, come in. This is the Ark and we are infection free. Is anyone out there? Does anyone copy?"

An hour later, she had turned and was laying on the bed on her stomach, the mouthpiece laying beside her and one hand up on the counter, slowly turning knobs. The weather had worsened and she heard loud cracks of thunder every so often. The rain had started a little while ago and the ship was tossing harder than before, making her feel a little sick. Laying down helped, but not much. She yawned as she hit a station that had a little less static. "Come in, come in. This is the Ark and we are infection free. Is anyone out there?" She waited a few moments, watching the closet across the room as the hangers beat a rhythm on the wall.

Her finger twitched on the dials, but just then the radio crackled to life, making her jump.

" _Hello? Ark? We're here! Are you still there?_ " Static and a scraping sound.

Clarke kicked a pillow to the ground as she scrambled up off the bed, suddenly wide awake. "Yes! We're here! Who is this?"

The voice that came back was rushed and loud, filling the small cabin. " _We need help! Please!_ "

Lexa dove for the controls, pushing the boat to go faster. Waves slammed the hull as the tiny boat raced over them, each impact pushing up through her feet and through her body, like she was being beaten. She clutched the dashboard with one hand, the other on the wheel.

"Fuck!" Anya's voice came from outside. "They're gaining, Lex! Step on it!"

"I'm trying!" Lexa yelled back, leaning on the throttle. The bow came up and things around the cabin began sliding. A pen flew off the counter and bounced off her hip. "Anya!"

A hand smacked against the windshield, and suddenly there was Anya outside, soaked in sea spray and hefting a rifle as she stared in at Lexa. Her dirty blonde hair was water-darkened and sticking to her face.

"Get in here!"

Anya gave a short nod and disappeared again. A gunshot rang out, then another, and the door of the cabin slammed open. Anya pulled herself in. The boat gave a particularly hard jolt as it came down off a wave and Anya's shoulder slammed into a cabinet. "Fuck," she hissed, shoving off the cabinet and coming to Lexa's side.

"Where's Eretria and Ven?" Lexa said, turning the boat into the next wave.

A short burst of gunshots came from above. "There," Anya said, looking up.

"Okay. Everyone else is below?"

"Yes."

"Good. Take the wheel."

Anya did, taking Lexa's place. Lexa fell back against the captain's chair as Anya slammed her hand against the throttle. She glanced back over her shoulder at Lexa. "Where are you going?"

"Below," Lexa said. "I need my gun."

"Hurry back," Anya said, glaring at her. She turned back to the windshield, squinting out into the rain that was falling from the blackening sky. "Tell everyone to hold fucking tight."

Lexa pushed off of the captain's chair, hurrying to the door. She ducked through it, keeping low. More gunshots went off and she cursed, dropping to her knees and crawling for the stairs. "Eretria! Ven!" she screamed over the wind and gunshots. Above her head, a window shattered.

A few moments later, she heard a loud thump from the far side of the deck and then Eretria came crawling around the corner, her rifle strapped to her back and her dark hair all over the place. "I'm here!"

"How are you on ammo?"

"Running low." Eretria swung her rifle around and rose to her knees just long enough to fire three more shots, then ducked as more bullets returned, hitting the wall beside them. She slid over to the stairs, practically rolling down them. Lexa followed. Everyone was gathered in the little kitchen/living room area, clinging to each other and the boat as it shook and even more shots rang out above.

"What are we doing?" Laura yelled from the kitchen island, where she was hanging on tight.

Lexa ignored all the questions that followed from everyone else, leaving Eretria to deal with them. She ducked into the bedroom, tripping over the sleeping bags still stretched across the floor as she hurried across toward the table. She'd left her stupid gun on the table, but now it was gone. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, looking around for the gun. The CB radio was on the floor next to her, sliding back and forth as the boat rocked. Her gun came sliding out from under the bed and she snatched for it. Missed.

" _Come in. This is the Ark-free.-anyone-_ ".

A particularly violent jerk sent Lexa careening to the floor, one hand scrambling for the CB's mouthpiece, the other grabbing the radio itself as it began to slide away from her. She caught both and pulled them close, rolling and pressing her back to the wall. Her gun skittered away, forgotten.

Lexa nearly screamed as she fumbled with the mouthpiece, pressing way too hard on the button. Weeks. They'd had to fix the stupid radio twice and it caught fire once, but here it was. Finally. A voice. Lexa sucked in a breath. "Hello? Ark? We're here! Are you still there?"

A few seconds. Static. For those few sinking seconds, Lexa was sure she'd just imagined the voice. Her brain's last desperate attempt at producing hope. But then the radio crackled and the voice returned. " _Yes! We're her-Who is-_ "

The boat bounced again, creaking and screeching as water tore at the hull outside. "We need help!" Lexa yelled into the mouthpiece. "Please!"


End file.
